


A Good 2IC

by Rinkafic



Series: John Loves Evan [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are a couple of unrelated shorts I wrote between 2010 & 2011, all clumped together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good 2IC

**"I Love it When a Plan Comes Together"**

A key quality of a good second in command is the ability to anticipate what their commanding officer is going to ask for before they ask for it. Another quality of an excellent 2IC is knowing what that CO needs without the CO asking for it. Major Lorne falls into the category of exceptional seconds, as he generally seems to be able to foresee what his CO needs before Sheppard himself even knows there is a need, though if asked, Lorne would say he was just doing his job. 

That isn't to say that Lorne possesses supernatural powers of precognition. His ability to turn up at the right time, in the right place, with the right form, equipment, or marine-for-the-job is instead due to years of observation.

Lorne had been keeping a close eye on Sheppard, waiting for his boredom level to go critical, necessitating an intervention, lest someone get hurt. Not a premonition; experience. A Bored John Sheppard is a Dangerous John Sheppard. "Morale-building" exercises, increases in hand-to-hand training, the half-pipe on the West Pier: most of Sheppard's plans ended up with somebody in the infirmary; usually Sheppard. 

When Sheppard dozed off during the Tuesday morning meeting, jolting awake to stare glassy-eyed as Woolsey droned on, and later chewed out a marine for a minor infraction, Lorne knew it was time. He retreated to his office, laptop and cell phone in hand: it was time to make some calls.

Lorne had learned that one of the best ways to keep Sheppard from over thinking or digging in his heels over a plan was baffle him with bullshit. (One of the Colonel's own tactics.) Hiding outside the mess, Evan waited until Sheppard had settled down at his table, eaten half his breakfast and was engrossed in conversation with McKay before he pounced. He dashed over to the table skidded to a stop. 

"Lorne?"

"Sir."

"What's up?"

"I take it you didn't read your email? Your transport is waiting, they just called," Lorne hid his smirk at the perplexed scowl that crossed Sheppard's face, there was an audible snap when Lorne flicked his wrist out with an envelope. "Your orders." Being Earthside was an advantage to the plan, paper orders were actually being issued occasionally, thus he had the envelope ready and it did not raise any red flags.

Sheppard opened it, scanned the message and looked up, apparently trying to conceal the fact that he'd missed something. Lorne had rushed in to "rescue" him, allowing John to save face. "I must have forgotten to mention it, sir. They're waiting on the city pier."

Grabbing his muffin, Sheppard pushed away from the table. "Looks like I have an IOA meeting to get to. We'll have to do that test later, Rodney."

Lorne accompanied Sheppard to the pier; with the excuse he was escorting some new scientists back. Once there, he tapped his radio. " _Hammond_ , Colonel Sheppard is ready." He grinned with satisfaction at Sheppard's surprised look when the Asgard beam dematerialized him.

~*~

Sheppard had suspected that Lorne was up to something, but couldn't prove anything. He felt he was being manipulated, but orders were orders and so he found himself on the _Hammond_ , greeted by a friendly smile and wave from Sam Carter. "Hi, Sheppard." 

He returned his former CO's smile and shrugged. "I kept meaning to call, but, well, you know." 

"I keep meaning to get over to see you guys, but, well, you know," she returned his smirk. "Change of orders, we're diverting you. Major Leonard will explain further. Bye!" She nodded to a technician and before he could return the wave, or wonder at Sam's mischievous smirk, he was gone.

"Welcome to Edwards, Colonel. I'm Major Leonard. I understand you're familiar with the Pave Hawk?"

Sheppard shook Leonard's hand and nodded. "Sure am, I flew evacs in Afghanistan."

"We're down a few pilots, minor outbreak of the flu. Would you mind suiting up and running a few tests on a new bird?" Leonard waved across the tarmac at a black helicopter. "She's got some upgrades on the Pave Hawks, same basic design, though."

"Uh, yeah, sure. No problem." John grinned. This was far better than an afternoon of meetings with the IOA. He followed Leonard towards a building to gear up.

By lunchtime, Sheppard was sure he had a permanent smile plastered on his face. The new chopper was a dream; he felt a mild pang of jealousy towards the pilots who got this baby as their ride. He dropped off his flight gear regretfully; reminded now of how much he loved the physicality of flying without inertial dampeners. He asked Leonard, "So, you still need a fill in?"

"If anything comes up, we'll give you a call. I was told to give you this." Leonard handed John an envelope, and spoke into his radio, "Colonel Sheppard is ready."

"Wait, what? I'm not..." and he was back on the _Hammond_ again, no Carter this time, but the tech from earlier tossed him a jaunty wave, then John was gone again. 

He smelled the ocean first. The view, when he turned to look, was breathtakingly picturesque. According Lorne's note in the envelope, he was officially on leave for the next 72 hours; and Lorne figured John would be able to find ways to keep himself occupied. His luggage was waiting; he already had a room booked, and dinner reservations for 7:30pm.

So, Lorne _had_ been up to something. He had been dropped near the entrance of the Casa Palmero, so he walked over and went up tot he desk. "I'm checking in. John Sheppard." The desk clerk smiled, they chatted, she handed him a keycard. As John looked around, he realized Lorne had pulled some major strings on short notice.

A familiar voice drawled, "Well, don't just stand there, go change your clothes and get your clubs, we have a 2pm tee time." 

John shook his head, bemused, as he turned. "So, sir, Lorne got you in on this too?"

"Hell, yeah!" Jack O'Neill smirked, "You think I'm gonna pass up a chance at 18 holes at Pebble Beach? As soon as I heard the plan, I was all in."

Pebble Beach? Damn. Lorne was good. 

*******************

 **Alone, In Jersey**  
“Colonel Lorne, welcome back, your IOA meeting is scheduled for 1100,” Walter Harriman’s voice droned on with the details for Lorne’s stay at the SGC, which Lorne listened to with half an ear until Walter said, “… prescriptions filled at the VA Hospital in East Orange.”

“New Jersey? What’s he doing in New Jersey?”

Harriman slipped Lorne a piece of paper, which Evan read, and then rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course, makes perfect sense. How soon can I get...”

"Flight to McGuire at 1300 tomorrow. You'll have to drive from there."

"Through Jersey, on a Friday. Lovely. If it hadn't taken so long to make the other arrangements, I'd be ready to kill someone, you know that Walter?"

~*~

The night shift wasn't bad. They'd made him train during the day, and interacting with people had sucked. 

But at night, he was practically alone in the building. It was quiet. He was learning to live with the quiet. Sometimes he almost convinced himself he preferred it. He'd jumped through the proper hoops and now he had somewhere to go at night, instead of sitting in an empty apartment with no company. With no purpose.

He did the duties they assigned him here and management left him alone.

No one stared at the scars. Not anymore.

Simple machinery; it didn't require two good eyes. It didn't even require two good hands, he glanced down at his ruined right arm, curled against his belly, his hand lying like a dead thing in his lap.

No one here cared that he wouldn’t fly anything ever again.

He preferred it here. No one watched him with pity. The pity was the worst thing. "Poor John, can't fly anymore. Poor John, can't hold a weapon. Poor John."

A flutter of movement to his left caught his eye, his only eye, and he braked.

Awkwardly, he reached up and tugged off the protective headgear he was required to wear, then looked over at the department head with a bored expression. "Yeah, Bill?"

"Can you take care of that clusterfudge over on five that Rarri left from dayshift?"

"Sure, Bill."

Bill turned away, and then turned back, "Oh, you had a call, or at least someone asked for you, they didn't hold."

That almost stirred some interest, almost roused his curiosity. Then he shrugged his left shoulder and went to clean up the mess on five. It would take him a couple of hours doing it by himself, but that was par for the course, wasn't it, these days?

The last person he expected, or wanted, to see at 11:45 on a Friday night was standing in the center of the lumber aisle, blocking his way. With a grunt of irritation, John pulled to a stop, reached down and shut off the ignition.

"What?"

Lorne rolled his eyes at the tone and said cheerily, "Hello to you too. Why yes, it was a lovely drive. I had no trouble at all finding the place."

John sat and stared at his former executive officer impassively. John had done the leaving, the walking out. He was surprised to see Evan.

With a frustrated huff, Lorne looked around then gestured with a sweep of his arm. "Really, John? A fork lift? At Home Depot?"

"I like the smock." Sheppard fingered the obnoxious orange garment. When Lorne continued to stare at him for a bit more explanation, he sighed and said, "It's quiet. As long as I do my work, they leave me alone.” After a few moments staring at each other, John said wearily, “Just leave me alone, Evan."

Evan approached him, "You could have stayed." John snorted and looked away, turning the scarred side of his face to Lorne. 

"Look, there's been a development."

"Don't want to hear it." John reached for the ignition.

Lorne's hand closed over his on the key, and John jolted at the touch, the first time someone had touched him in weeks. Evan's voice was close to his ear. "Carter called a friend in. A Tok'ra friend."

Lorne's hand was warm. 

John shivered and looked up at his friend. 

Evan gave his hand a squeeze and said quietly, "They think they can fix this. With a combination of surgery and a healing device the Tok'ra have, they might be able to restore what you've lost. Come back with me, John. You don't have to do this alone."

There was no anger in Evan's eyes when he looked at him. Could they make him the way he was before? Could he have everything, including Evan, back again? Without releasing his grip on Evan's hand, he slid off the seat of the forklift. Help me clean up this mess, then I'll tell Bill I'm leaving."

 

*******************

 **Ritual of Fortune**  
Evan trailed through the Gate after the other members of his team, limping slightly, refusing to look up. He would not look up. He also resisted the urge to finger the garish beaded necklace dangling around his neck.

“Got some new jewelry there, Lorne? Pret... ty,” Sheppard drawled from the balcony over Evan’s head.

Damn. Eyes closed, his chin dropped to his chest for a moment and he let out a sigh, hoping Sheppard would let it go.

“I see the makeup matches the beads.”

No such luck. The natives had lied; the Ritual of Fortune was, thus far, bringing him nothing of the sort. Since undergoing the ritual, he had dropped and broken the digital camera they brought along to record images for the anthropologists. His stomach had revolted, violently, to the thick drink they had shared during the proceedings. And then he’d tripped over a root on the way back to the Gate and twisted his ankle. This was good fortune?

“Ritual of Fortune, sir,” Evan called as he turned towards the corridor leading to the showers and locker room. “It will all be in my report.”

“You’re limping,” Sheppard said quietly, appearing at Lorne’s elbow, a glance up at his face revealed concern, all teasing gone.

“Twisted ankle, I’ll be fine. The paint itches, though, I really need a shower.” Apparently, John was going to escort him to the locker room and see for himself that Evan was merely twisted and not broken.

They passed Teyla in the corridor, strolling slowly with Torren gripping her fingertips and toddling along unsteadily in a tiny pair of Baby Nikes that his Uncle John had insisted were necessary. “I see you have been to Eriesha,” Teyla remarked, pausing to give Evan a smile as she took in his garish ensemble.

“Yeah. Some fortune. I broke my camera,” Evan groused.

“Did you not read the warning in my brief about Eriesha, Major Lorne? The people would have taken great offense at the recording of their images. They consider it a theft of their souls.”

“Huh. Well, that’s good then. I guess I skimmed over that.” Evan knew he’d skimmed over it; John had been leaning over his shoulder breathing in his ear, distracting him when he was trying to read. “I missed the part about the gross drink too, made me sick.”

Teyla lifted Torren into her arms, and the toddler took advantage of his new height to lean over and bat his hands at Sheppard’s head. The colonel turned to the boy and a mock fisticuffs broke out, much to Torren’s delight. “The hirndasi milk is not kind to all, it can sit in one’s stomach for days causing great discomfort.”

Evan guessed it was a good thing he’d upchucked the lot of it into the bushes beside the path. Torren squealed with delight as John caught his hands and pretended to gnaw on them, making loud ‘monster’ noises.

“I’ll see you later Teyla, I’m going to go wash this paint off.” Evan gave her a wave and resumed his walk towards the locker room.

John caught his elbow and leaned close to his ear, “I’m very concerned about that ankle, Lorne, I should perform a thorough inspection, make sure you don’t need a trip to the infirmary, you might have injured something else when you took your tumble. There’s a perfectly good shower in your quarters, I think you need help scrubbing that stuff off.”

Maybe things were not as unfortunate as they had seemed, after all. Evan thought.

**********************

 **What I Think it Does**  
“Rodney, is this what I think it is?” John smirked and waggled the Ancient artifact when Rodney looked over at him

The scientist scowled at him, the ‘stop playing with my stuff’ scowl. “If you think it is a component that fits into a larger device - it is.”

“Why is it warm?”

“It’s warm? It wasn’t warm when we found it. What did you do, Sheppard?”

“I just picked it up. Don’t give me that look, you have the gene too, didn’t you touch it?”

“It wasn’t warm. I repeat, what did you do? What were you thinking?”

Sheppard blushed; he felt the heat of it creeping up the back of his neck. He bounced the thing in his hand and tried to deflect Rodney’s attention with a question of a science-y nature. “If it plugs into something else, where is the output? See? Smooth, solid. I can see through it, there’s wiring in there. Why have a closed-circuit like this, if it plugs into something else?”

“I don’t know, Sheppard, we haven’t found where it goes. Talk to it, do your voodoo what does it tell you?”

He stared at it, but as usual when he tried, the object told him nothing. “Nothing, Rodney. I’m not psychic. It just feels warm.”

Annoyed with him, Rodney waved a hand dismissively. “Take it, go find the hole it fits into.”

“Rodney, you know what this looks like?”

“Then find a hole to shove it into, Sheppard. Go away, I’m busy. Make sure it doesn’t get hot enough to burn before you go playing with it.”

Blinking stupidly at what Rodney had said, Sheppard’s mind immediately went to the dirtiest place it could go, and what he’d like to do with this particular plug. As he thought about it, the thing started to vibrate in his hand. “No way!”

Rodney rolled his eyes and glared at him. “Sheppard, I threw you out.”

“Is this a bomb?”

“No, and I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out on your own yet, it was listed in the database as an erotic satisfaction tool.”

“Not going to blow up?”

“No. Go find someone to fu… better yet, Sheppard, shove it up yo…”

“Gotta go Rodney, see ya later!”

~*~

Sheppard sat at his desk, his chin propped on one hand as he stared at Lorne sitting gingerly in the chair in front of him. Evan had lost the coin toss, and John wasn’t sure if he was disappointed about that.

“What?”

“No-thing,” Sheppard replied in a sing-song voice.

“I’m trying to finish the supply requisition; it has to be done for the databurst.”

Unimpressed by Lorne’s complaint, knowing he’d finish it with time to spare, Sheppard snorted. “What else has to be done before we knock off for the day?”

“Just this…HEY! What the hell, Sheppard?!?”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Sheppard replied, “A little warm?”

Lorne dropped his data pad on the desk and leaned forward, shifting on the chair cushion. “What did you do? What is this thing you stuck in me?”

“Ancient sex toy. Rodney said it was safe. Guess what else it does?”

Lorne’s eyes went wide and he flopped back in the chair, gripping the armrests. “Ohmigod. Turnitoff, turnitoff!”

Panicked, Sheppard did so, jumping up from his chair and running around the desk to Lorne’s side. “What happened, are you hurt?” He reached for his radio, intending to call for medical help. Lorne reached up and grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“I have to walk home! You can’t just do THAT! For crying out loud, John, my knees are numb!”

"Time to go home!” Relieved, John clutched a handful of Lorne’s jacket and dragged him up from the chair and across the room, chuckling evilly under his breath.

 

***********************

 **A Little Sore**  
When John limped into the office, Evan was on the phone, talking rapidly to a potential client, if he was correctly interpreting the side of the conversation he was hearing. Yanking the zipper of his jacket down by his lift ticket, he winced as he attempted to wriggle out of it. Seeing his partner’s struggle, Evan nestled the phone against his should and beckoned John over to him.

“Yes, of course we’d cover all of that. No, Mrs. Stevens, you wouldn’t have to do any more legwork. Exactly, one stop shopping.” Evan eased the sleeve over his sore arm, giving John a sympathetic look as he saw the slight swelling of his elbow, evident even through the two layers of long sleeved t-shirts John typically wore. “The lodge does have evening entertainment.”

Nodding his thanks for the assist, John took his ski jacket from Evan and limped over to toss it on the coat rack. On his way to the couch, he stopped at the coffee pot, liberally pouring some whiskey into the mug along with the java. He eased himself onto the sofa, stretching his sore leg out.

“The deposit check should be ten percent of the total, so once you have your final headcount, give me a holler and we’ll decide on which package you want to go with. Thanks very much for letting Gateways to Adventure plan your group’s itinerary. You too, Mrs. Stevens, it’s been a pleasure.” He hung up the phone and immediately went to the couch, standing behind it and looking down at John with concern.

“Big group?” John asked, tossing his chin in the direction of the phone.

“Youth group from Colorado Springs, maybe twenty snowboarders. Half of them are very experienced and looking to do the extreme trails. A couple will be looking for lessons. What did you do to yourself this time?”

With a grin John confessed, “I went up to Big Ella with the frat guys.”

“And back down the face again.” Shaking his head, Evan cuffed John lightly upside the head. “I knew I should have taken them out and left you here to do the paperwork. You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“The powder was awesome! I landed a few great ones, Ev.”

The grin was infectious and Evan returned it, then circled the sofa and reached to undo the snaps of John’s snow pants, tugging on the ankles until John lifted his hips. John sucked a breath through his teeth as Evan pulled the pants off and his leg was jarred. “Idiot, did you go to the clinic?”

“Nah. I’m just a little sore, Ev, nothing some rest and Tylenol won’t fix. And before you ask, Mother, I took the Tylenol as soon as I got back to the truck.”

Sitting down beside the sofa, Evan held a hand out for John’s spiked coffee, sipping appreciatively before passing it back. John’s hand fell on his head, feathering through his hair as Evan dropped his chin onto John’s middle. “Should I cancel the dinner reservations for Pegasus?”

“Crap, I forgot. I’m sorry Ev, there is no way I am getting a suit jacket over this elbow or dress pants over the knee tonight.”

Evan shrugged. “I don’t care; I don’t need to go out. I’d rather stay close to home and turn in early. I have two hang glider clients to take out tomorrow. I’ll need the Expedition.”

“That’s fine, I can take the frat guys out on the snowmobiles, they’ll love it. They decided want to do some ice sailing, so I’m going to run them up to Laura and Radek and spend the day up there.”

“Good. Laura will keep your pack of wild men entertained and Radek will keep you out of trouble.”

Pouting, John replied, “Radek will want me to go ice fishing with him. I hate ice fishing. It’s boring.”

Evan stood up and kissed John’s forehead. “Not everyone is an adrenaline junkie like you, Sheppard. Bring a book, learn to relax.”

“I know how to relax,” John caught the back of Evan’s head before he was out of reach and pulled him back, bringing their lips together. The kiss grew more wet and heated. Putting his good arm around Evan’s waist, John attempted to draw him down onto the couch with him but Evan resisted.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m always sore somewhere. I’m not hurt anywhere that is going to interfere with my favorite form of relaxation.”

Pulling out of John’s grasp, Evan practically leapt away from him. “We have clients coming any minute. I am not getting caught with your hands down my pants again.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Someone has to keep a cool head. But I’ll make it up to you later. McKay called; the Jacuzzi is working at the lodge again, and Ronon is playing in the bar tonight, he brought the whole band back from LA with him.”

“Will hot wings, bar burgers, good music and a little making out in the hot tub be a satisfactory anniversary date for you?”

Smiling, Evan moved to put the couch between them for safety and leaned over to give John a kiss filled with promises of more to come. “That would be just perfect.”

 

****************

 **How Do I Say I'm Sorry?**  
There was a folded piece of paper on the floor by the door in John’s office. He noticed it when he was heading out to the Tuesday morning senior staff meeting. _“I’m sorry, I was wrong for walking out, I should have said something else. Maybe it can work. I want to try again. Meet me Wednesday at 1800 at the alcove by the South Pier.”_

The note wasn’t signed but John recognized Evan’s handwriting, he saw it often enough during the day. His first instinct was to crumple it and throw it away. He thought they were done and over months ago. What game was Evan playing? It had hurt, when Evan had walked out, more than John had thought it would, more than any other little fling had. They had barely been on speaking terms since then, which was difficult with Evan being his XO. Did he still care enough to try again? He would have to give the matter serious consideration. He folded the note and stuck it in his pocket.

 

Evan took notes throughout the meeting as usual, his mind on what he would do if McKay turned up at the South Pier, and what he would do if he didn’t. He avoided looking at the scientist. Their affair had been brief but hot as hell. McKay had been the one to call it off, claiming he just couldn’t be with a military guy, he wasn’t cut out for all the cloak and dagger bullshit that went with sleeping with a guy in uniform. Evan had given up without a fight, leaving McKay’s quarters without a backwards glance. But yesterday the word had come down in the databurst that DADT was due to be repealed, so maybe there was a chance it could be something more, maybe Rodney was willing to try again.

He glanced over at Sheppard, that was a bridge burned to hell. Things had been tense between them since Evan had walked out. He wished they could still be friends, but it didn’t look like Sheppard was willing to forgive him, and he didn’t know how to approach him to ask.

He meant to slip the note to Rodney after the meeting, but when he looked for it, he couldn’t find it. He must have left it on his desk.

It was not on his desk. Nor was it anywhere on his person or in the stack of files and datapads he had been carrying. He was very annoyed that he had misplaced it, though it wasn’t addressed or signed, so even if someone else found it, there wouldn’t be too much of a problem over it.

Mentally retracing his steps as he went to the Mess Hall, he tried to think of where else he might have left the note but came up blank. He grabbed a tray and got online and noticed as he waited to be served that Rodney was sitting with Zelenka. That was not unusual, they worked together. what was unusual was the way they had their heads bent close together, and the way Rodney was touching Zelenka’s hand. Damn it, he was too late, Rodney had moved on. It was a good thing he had lost the note after all, now he wouldn’t be embarrassed over the whole thing.

 

John waited for an hour on the South Pier, feeling more and more like an idiot. He wondered if Lorne had rigged the security cameras to watch him make a fool out of himself, but that didn’t seem like Evan’s style. The note in his pocket was already worn at the edges, he had read it and reread it so many times as he thought the matter over. He pulled it out again. Maybe Evan had changed his mind and chickened out?

Once John had made the decision to meet him, to try again, the idea had stuck in his head and wouldn’t let go. He still had feelings for Evan. He gave up waiting and went to Lorne’s quarters. Lorne looked surprised to see him when he answered the door chime. “Hello. Invite me in?” John asked. Evan stepped aside and John walked in. “I waited.” He held up the note.

Evan’s eyes went wide. “I’m so sorry...”

“So am I,” John replied and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him in and kissing him. Evan resisted at first but then gave a low moan and returned the kiss with equal fervor, grabbing John’s head and pulling him closer. When John came up for air, he pressed his forehead to Evan’s. “I missed you. I want to try again too.”

This was not at all what Evan had planned. He had actually started to apologize for John getting the note - how had John gotten the note? He thought he would never be able to properly apologize to John for the way things ended between them, though he had regretted it ever since. That John was apparently willing to forgive him was a surprise. “I didn’t know how to make it right,” he whispered, kissing John’s jaw and pressing up against him. “I thought you hated me.”

“I did, for a while, but I guess not as much as I thought. Can we start again?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I’m really glad you got my note.”  



End file.
